Its a love hate thing
by Kazuki Landen
Summary: A psychological fic. Your average Bakura beats Ryou type fic, but taken from a different point of view. Kinda. I'm not really sure how to describe it. But hey. R & R!
1. Chapter one

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Chapter 1

I had a dream, a few nights back. That doesn't sound too unusual, does it? Well it was unusual for me. I'm not allowed to dream very often. Only when he lets me. I think it came when he was drunk, so there were no barriers for it to penetrate. 

Shall I tell you what that dream was about? I won't, because I can't even remember what it was about. He has scoured it from my mind, leaving only the memory of having a dream.

I suppose you would like to know who 'he' is. 'He' is my tormentor, my master, my darker side. The other half of my soul. And still he treats me like a slave, kissing me one day, beating me the next. You see, he is as solid as you or I.

I would tell you how I feel, but he's only in the next room, and if he hears… if he hears me telling you that… he would kill me. He's come close, so many, many times… It would take only one thing to push him over the edge…

Can you leave now, please? I have to clear this room before he wakes. *A door slams in the background* No! Quick! Leave, before he finds you here! 

"Brat! Come here!" It's him, come to torment me again. I wonder what his weapon will be today. Love, or hate.

I prefer his hate, when he hits me. When he kisses me… I love him, and it's so hard to just submit to him, let him do as he wills. If I could, I would take control, kiss him back… but when I do that, I get beaten. I learned my lesson the very first time. 

He nearly killed me then. I was unconscious for nearly ten hours. The only reason I am alive now is because Yugi-tachi came round, about why I hadn't come to school. When they got no response, they broke in. They saw me, and called an ambulance. 

I told them, when I woke, that I had fallen down the stairs. They still don't know about my Yami beating me. Even Yugi, though he has a yami of his own. He's far too naïve to think that my Yami beats me. Not my own soul mate…

That's what he is, really. My soul mate. Not that it seems like it. 

He's here… I did none of what I should… I'm going to be beaten… No, not today then. He's going to kiss me… pinning my hands above my head…running his hands up and down my arms, sending tingles through my spine… his lips against mine… I hate this…I wish he loved me properly, as I do him…

But I shall have to bear my love in silence. Never let you know how I feel… I love you… Bakura…

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Weird. Even for me. Please review!

Kazuki.


	2. Chapter two

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Chapter 2

I'm back, and so is the fic. Not that anyone cares. 

Disclaimer- Don't own, never did. However, I am planning to take it over. So in the future, I may own it.

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He tastes… like chocolates… ice cold, though. I like kissing him, if only to see the look in his eyes, taste his lips…

I never realised before how cold he must get. I'm a spirit- I don't feel the cold. He does, though. It's winter, and if I concentrate I can feel the wind blowing through my body. But I can't be bothered to concentrate.

I force myself against him, pushing his hands above his head, running my fingers down his arms, through his hair… it's so soft, I can't help myself.

He no longer resists. The first time I kissed him, he tried to take control. I beat him for that. He doesn't even try to take over any more. I miss that spirit, sometimes. I wish I had let him carry on like that. 

I force my lips against his, and his eyes roll. I had no idea he enjoyed this so much. I would stop -I hate letting him get away with pleasure- but I'm enjoying it just as much as he is. 

A few moments later, his entire weight is dropped onto his arms, where I hold them above his head. I have to pull away, breathing hard. He drops to the ground- I think he's fainted. 

I shouldn't have forced him to kiss me for so long. He's too small- he ran out of breath in about a minute. Weakling. 

I lift him up, amazed at how little he weighs. I should give him more to eat. Actually, I should really give him something to eat in the first place. What he can scrounge off his friends at school is not enough. He probably doesn't even do that, knowing his idiotic manners. I haven't given him any food, or any money for food, for the last four months. I can feel his ribs through his shirt. I shall give him something to eat, when he wakes up. 

I lay him on the sofa, and sit by his head. I smooth his hair back from his milky-white forehead. He's actually quite beautiful, now I have time to study him. I can only see one blemish on his skin, on his left cheekbone. Red, brown, and black merged together with purple. Frowning, I bend in closer, to see what it is.

When I can see it clearly, I feel sick to my stomach. I caused that, yesterday. I beat him, and my fist caused that swollen bruise. It's the first time I have ever looked closely at the damage I have done to him, and it makes me feel ill. This is the first time I have cared enough to look at him, like this, without hate or lust.

He's waking up now, and his eyes flicker to my face. When they reach my eyes, he gasps, and looks down again. I would have given him a beating, usually, for looking me directly in my eyes, but now… Now I couldn't face that. I couldn't face his pain.

I have to tell him something. "I'm sorry."

I can tell that he can't believe what he's hearing. I can feel it, through our link. He doesn't speak though. He never does, now. Not until I ask him a question, or command him to speak.

He is sitting up, alert, but paler than usual. "I said, I'm sorry. Sorry for what I have done to you, every day I have lived here with you. I'm sorry."

I wait for his reaction. "I don't understand."

"It's simple!" I raise my hand to strike him, out of habit. As I do, he flinches. That tiny movement rips at my heart, and a tear slips from my eye. I stop my hand a bare millimetre from his cheek, and traced the bruise, stark against his too-thin face. "For that, I am sorry."

He notices the tear on my cheek, and raises his eyes. His direct gaze, from those soft, lifeless brown orbs, makes me flinch. "I shouldn't forgive you. Not after all you have done to me. Toyed with my heart, beaten me, almost killed me. But I do. I forgive you." 

"No. Never, ever forgive me. I was supposed to protect you, from those who wished you harm. But instead, I harmed you. I lay myself at your mercy." I kneel before him, handing him the dagger, in its sheaf, from my belt. "Kill me."

I can't see what he was doing, as my hair hid him from my view. I hear the dagger's hiss as it is drawn, but that's the only warning I get about what will happen. I tense myself. I am going to die, by the hand of the one I have tormented for the last four months. At last, he will be at peace. At last, he will be free. And all it took was my demise.

I'm going to miss you, Ryou.

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If you review, could you tell me if you want Yami Bakura to live, die, be wounded then die, or be wounded then live, or if Ryou will kill himself. I might not listen to you, but I will try and work out the best solution, judged on the reviews I receive. If any. 

R & R, however weird and crap you found it. Please?


	3. Chapter three

Next chapter. Thanks to everyone who told me to… ok, so I'm not gonna reveal the plot just yet. But… read on and you shall see!

All disclaimer stuff… see chapter one.

There was silence for a moment, as I fingered the dagger, feeling its sharp edge close against my finger tips.

For a moment… for a moment, I considered it. I considered killing him. Then I discarded the thought as evil, something that should never even be thought let alone carried out.

I thought about what I was going to say for several seconds, before I finally responded to what I had been told to do.

"I am sorry you had to lower yourself to this level before you believed me to be free. I am sorry you thought I would kill you. And… and I am sorry that you thought I _could_ kill you.

"You have been cruel to me, tormenting me, every day for the last one hundred and fourteen days. But… what doesn't break you makes you stronger. It makes you better able to cope with the rest of your life."

I felt his amazement through our link. He was amazed that I had kept count. He shouldn't be. Who wouldn't keep count of the days of torture? The days… I know the exact moment he appeared, the exact moment this terrible nightmare all began…

Of course I know.

I place the knife gently on the floor, then dropped onto the floor in front of my Yami. He still hadn't climbed to his feet, or even looked up.

I place my fingers under his chin. "I don't want to kill you. I never would kill you. You should know that. You would, if you even tried to talk to me, just… sit down and listen to me, talk to me properly."

He looked up. I almost cried at the look in his eyes. It was just… he just looked so terribly, terribly lost. I suddenly realised just how far he was from his home. From the ones he loved. Every single one of them was dead.

"I'm sorry, Bakura-sama. I… I'm sorry."

He laughed bitterly. "No. Never say you're sorry. Never say you forgive. Never let someone go once they bow their head to you. If they ask you to kill them… kill them."

I picked up the knife again. He was starting to scare me. I thought he might decide that, as I was no longer going to kill him, he would do it himself. "Don't… don't talk like that." I stammered, my voice almost squeaking. I forced it to stay reasonably normal. Yugi-tachi would have noticed, but Bakura had no idea of what I even sounded like.

"Like what? You don't like it? Well, you should learn to like it. Because that's how the real world will think, and talk."

"No. They won't. I won't let them." I shook my head defiantly, and threw the knife into a corner of the room, where Bakura could get it later if he wanted to get it.

"Life is dangerous, you fool! Listen to me, because I'm the only person who will ever take the time to tell you how damn awful life can be." He jumped to his feet, raising his hand to hit me.

I lurched backwards, trying to stay away from him. Oh, I'm not that stupid.

He pauses, looks at me in a strange way, then drops his hand. I think he forgot that he asked me to forgive him, forgot that he promised not to hurt me. He has a bad memory for promises. A week or so ago, he promised me that he would pay for food – I think he took notice then that I have eaten so little. He forgot that promise. I should know him by now – he never remembers anything that might be to my benefit. Whether deliberately or not, I don't know.

He's like that. Even when he's not trying to be cruel, he still is.

I don't know what I can do to help him.

I don't know what I can do to help myself.


End file.
